


Five Times Arthur Said I Love You To Someone Else (Plus One Time He Said It To Merlin)

by tehfanglyfish



Series: Five Times [6]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, That's Not A Proposal, except it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: The title says it all.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Five Times [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1338376
Comments: 44
Kudos: 298





	Five Times Arthur Said I Love You To Someone Else (Plus One Time He Said It To Merlin)

**Author's Note:**

> In a land of myth and a time of magic, also known as pre-lockdown February, I started this fic. Since I'm supposed to be working on something else right now, this seemed like the perfect time to finish it. 
> 
> Not fun statements include: 
> 
> A. Kindly do not post this to other sites  
> B. Never once have I claimed this franchise or made a monies from writing a fic

1

“I love you!”

Merlin had only been in Arthur’s service for about a month, and while the prince could be a royal ass, Merlin couldn’t deny that he’d developed feelings for the man. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they had made it all the way to love, but if that was how Arthur felt, Merlin wasn’t averse.

“I..” he began

“You smell amazing,” Arthur cut him off.

That was unexpected. Merlin had spent the day chasing after Arthur and he’d be the first to admit that exertion had taken its toll. It really was about time for a bath.

“Such a perfect golden brown.”

Huh? Not two days earlier Arthur had teased Merlin about his pale complexion.

“I’m going to devour you.”

There was something in Arthur’s tone that made Merlin’s stomach drop.

“So juicy and moist.”

Ah. It was herb crusted capon night in the castle kitchens. Of course the prat would profess his love for his dinner before tucking in.

As the sounds of chewing filled the room, Merlin did his best to suppress a sigh and went back to the task of polishing Arthur’s armor.

2

“You can’t die. I love you.”

Even in the midst of such a stressful moment, Merlin’s heart swelled with affection for Arthur. It was rare to hear him so openly express his emotions.

“He’s not going to die,” Merlin replied, as he treated Cai, Arthur’s favorite hound.

“I know that,” Arthur said, watching Merlin’s hands work to repair the damage caused by a wild boar. “Because you’re taking good care of him.”

Merlin tried to ignore the pride he felt at Arthur’s words and instead focus on the task at hand.

This would have been so much easier for Gaius. Merlin hated doing stitches, but he was the only one left to tend to the poor dog, the expectant mothers of Camelot all seeming to have gone into labor simultaneously. The midwife had dragged Gaius away hours before a panicked Arthur returned from a hunt with Cai cradled in his arms.

The injuries were beyond Merlin’s skill as a physician’s assistant, but his magic more than compensated for his lack of training. Sending Arthur to fetch blankets, Merlin quickly cast the healing spell, then began stitching up the wound.

“I shouldn’t have left you behind,” Arthur said. “My luck is always better when you’re around.”

“There,” Merlin said, finishing his work. “He’ll need to stay still for a couple of weeks, and we’ll need to keep him from licking it, but he should heal nicely.”

“Thank you, Merlin. After you, Cai is my closest friend. It would break my heart to lose him. Or you,” Arthur added softly, his eyes shining with moisture as they met Merlin’s.

“Come on. The draught I gave him will have him sleeping for hours. Let me wash up and we can eat. The soup should be just about done.”

3

Merlin sent for his mother the day Uther lost the ability to sit upright. He couldn’t explain why he’d written the letter asking her to visit Camelot – it had simply seemed the right thing to do at the time.

She arrived two days after Uther’s death and Merlin immediately knew he’d made the right decision.

Arthur had been serving as the regent for months. As the king in all but name, he was far from a helpless boy. And yet as soon as Hunith arrived, he melted into her arms.

In his chambers, with Merlin and Hunith as his only witnesses, Arthur broke down. The grief for his father’s passing unleashed a torrent of emotions that Arthur had been repressing for years. Uther had never tolerated tears, decrying them as nothing more than a loss of control and a sign of weakness.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur choked, trying to regain his composure.

Hunith hugged him tighter, stroking Arthur’s hair as he sobbed into her shoulder, whispering the same reassuring words Merlin had heard so many times growing up, when magic had made his life in Ealdor more complicated than it needed to be.

Eventually Arthur’s tears dried up.

“I love you.”

Though the words had fallen out as a whisper, Merlin heard them across the room where he was sorting the royal socks.

“You’re just as much my son as Merlin,” Hunith said softly. “You’ll always be part of our family.”

She stayed for a few more days, letting Arthur and Merlin show her around the city. Laden down with food, clothes, and assorted trinkets that Arthur bought her in the marketplace, she finally headed home. The king had insisted on Gwaine escorting her despite her protests.

“It’s odd how she showed up when I needed her most,” Arthur said as they watched the pair ride off.

“Mothers are like that,” Merlin replied. “It’s their intuition.”

“Right. She sensed that I was in distress. And no one told her to come.”

“Not that I know of.”

Arthur laughed for the first time since Uther died.

“You, Merlin, are a terrible liar. But I suppose that can be overlooked. That first morning, you said you didn’t want me to feel alone. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more loved.”

Before Merlin could think of what to say, a gaggle of advisors found them, shuffling the king off to a council meeting.

Though nothing more was said on the matter, Arthur’s eyes never left Merlin for the rest of the afternoon.

4

It made sense, Merlin supposed, that Uther’s death would leave Arthur free to follow his heart. Not immediately, of course. He had to work through his grief while adjusting to his new role as king. But after a year had passed, Arthur seemed ready to move on from mourning to matrimony.

Though Merlin couldn’t say he was happy that Arthur was interested in someone else, the closure helped. Or so he kept telling himself, hoping one day he might actually believe it.

Besides, Arthur couldn’t possibly want him. He’d never expressed an interest in men. Of course, he hadn’t really said all that much about women either. Plus there was the matter of Merlin’s magic. Yes, Arthur had heeded Gaius’s advice to lift the ban after Morgana’s secret came to light, but it wasn’t as though Merlin could easily admit to almost a decade of deception.

And so he tried to help Arthur navigate the complicated waters of love.

The whole thing began with Arthur asking Merlin cryptic questions about courtship.

Which flowers are most romantic? Are picnics preferable to dinners alone? What’s a good courtship gift? How can you tell if someone desires friendship or romance? Which tunic do you think looks best on me?

Merlin tried to answer Arthur’s questions as best he could with the limited information at his disposal.

“Why won’t you tell me who you’re pursuing?” Merlin asked for what felt like the thousandth time. “If I know who it is, I can give better advice.”

“It’s too soon,” Arthur replied. “I’m not sure my feelings are reciprocated. I don’t see the need to give you yet another reason to laugh at me.”

“Anyone who doesn’t want you is a fool,” Merlin shot back, the words jumping out before he could catch himself.

“Yes, well, fools can be surprisingly wise at times. I’m not that much of a catch.”

“You’re the king.”

“The king who can’t seem to dress and feed himself without daily assistance.”

“That’s not true. You just enjoy my company,” Merlin teased.

The look Arthur gave him in response did something to Merlin’s knees. If Arthur kept staring at him like that, there was no way Merlin would be able to help him plan a courtship.

“Maybe it would help to talk to Gwen,” Merlin offered.

“You are brilliant!”

After a couple of weeks, Merlin came to regret his suggestion. Arthur increasingly spent his free time in Gwen’s company. He started to rise early enough to meet her as she arrived at the castle steps and spent evenings eating dinner at her house. They even walked arm-in-arm through the castle corridors, sharing secret whispers and laughs.

Rumors began to fly, not that Merlin could blame the Camelot gossip mill. It was obvious that they got on well. At least they were genuine friends. After all those years Merlin had done his best to keep Arthur out of marriages that were nothing more than strategic alliances, it was comforting to know he would marry for love.

Merlin’s suspicions were soon confirmed. Walking through the deserted throne room one day, he heard voices from an antechamber.

“Guinevere, I love you,” Arthur exclaimed.

“Shut up,” Gwen laughed.

Deciding it was best to give them privacy, Merlin left quietly, using his magic to silence the room from other eavesdroppers.

5

“You brought it?” Arthur didn’t even bother with a greeting when Morgana rode into the castle courtyard.

“It’s nice to see you too, brother, and yes, I brought it.”

“You certainly took your time.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I should have come faster. It isn’t as if I have any obligations or responsibilities as a high priestess. It was no trouble at all for me to simply drop everything and dig through the monastery vaults to retrieve…” Morgana glanced at Merlin who was holding the reins of her horse so she could dismount. “…it… and ride nonstop for three days straight. Perhaps I should study flying spells so that the next time you call, I can be here sooner. Or better yet, teleportation. Can’t keep my brother waiting.”

“Good,” Arthur said. “For once you’ll be doing something useful with your magic.”

“I’ll show you useful,” Morgana said, as she stepped down on the cobblestones. “I know a hex that’s especially useful for dealing with arrogant kings who…”

Merlin smiled as they chased each other around the courtyard. Yes, they were decades into adulthood, both of them shouldering considerable burdens that came with their respective positions. But in this moment, age and titles didn’t matter; they were siblings, taunting and tormenting each other as the people of Camelot, going about their business, tried their best to dodge them.

He was proud of how accepting Arthur had been of Morgana’s magic when she’d finally confessed not long after Uther’s death. It took Arthur a day of deep contemplation before he was asking Gaius for suggestions as to where she might go for training.

Merlin knew that Arthur still sometimes felt uneasy about magic, but he strove to accept Morgana, which in turn benefited the entire kingdom. Under Arthur, Camelot was proving to be a place where sorcerers could flourish. Well, if they were brave enough to come forward. Which Merlin was not. Maybe he’d say something about his own magic after the wedding. There was no reason to bring up unpleasantness during what was supposed to be a happy time.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed Arthur and Morgana had stopped their game and were now talking in hushed whispers.

“It’s beautiful,” Arthur was saying, peering at something in Morgana’s palm as Merlin stepped closer.

“Isn’t it though? I was tempted to keep it for myself. Not that I would have. I think you’ve found the perfect recipient for it.”

“If the recipient accepts.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about rejection. I’ve seen how the two of you look at each other. Honestly, I don’t know why you’re bothering with this. It’s not like your left bum cheek isn’t tattooed ‘Property of…’”

Oh. So Morgana had brought an engagement ring for Arthur to give Gwen. Merlin wished Arthur had told him. It was strange, as Merlin had assumed Arthur would use his mother’s ring.

“It’s not like that and you know it. Stupid meddlesome witch.”

Morgana feigned hurt feelings, withdrawing her hand to shove whatever she’d been holding back in the folds of her traveling cloak before Merlin could get a good look at it.

“If you’re going to call me names, I’m leaving and taking it with me.”

“I was hasty,” Arthur said, catching her by the sleeve and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You know I love you.”

“Whatever,” Morgana said, returning the side hug. “Let’s go inside to catch up. Merlin, please put my horse in the stable, then come join us so we can have a proper family reunion. You’ve always been a better brother than this oaf.”

+1

In all the years Merlin had been in Arthur’s service, he’d never had extended time off.

There was the occasional day to recover from the mishaps he got into as he protected Arthur. Gaius continued to use the tavern excuse, much to Merlin’s annoyance. Why not just say he’d come down with a fever?

And there were periodic visits to Ealdor, though Arthur usually insisted on accompanying Merlin, claiming that the village needed checking up on in case more bandits were plotting an attack. Arthur’s presence, though not unwelcome, meant that Merlin had to continue his serving duties even on these excursions.

Otherwise, Merlin spent his days pretty much continuously in Arthur’s service.

Which was why it was odd that he suddenly had an entire week to himself, a guard delivering the news in the morning right as Merlin was leaving to fetch the royal breakfast.

Gaius had no explanation for the note instructing Merlin not to report to work.

“Do you think he’s unwell?” Merlin asked.

An hour later, Gaius returned reporting the king’s good health and his own added responsibilities.

“Arthur needs time to consider an important decision,” Gaius explained. “He’s staying in his chambers until he figures it out. I’m to work with Leon to oversee the daily business of government.”

“What is he trying to decide?”

“He wouldn’t say except that it was one of the biggest decisions of his life.”

It must be about Gwen, Merlin decided. Perhaps Arthur was hesitant to propose. Maybe he was worried about what the council would say or that Gwen might feel pressured because of his status. The clotpole might even doubt that Gwen would accept.

Clearly Arthur was in need of Merlin’s advice.

He banged on Arthur’s door until his fists ached. Yet there was no response – not even a “piss off” shouted from within.

Merlin tried his best not to let his hurt feelings show as he skulked about the castle. It was strange – on a normal day he could easily have rattled off countless things he’d rather do than work. But now all he wanted was to see Arthur, even if that meant endless loads of laundry and polishing.

“I think he’ll be happy with Gwen,” Merlin slurred to Gwaine on his first actual tavern visit in more than a year. “He should just ask her.”

Why Gwaine laughed and called him hopeless, Merlin wasn’t sure.

It was on the sixth day that Arthur finally stopped ignoring him, sending a message asking Merlin to meet him on the east tower just before sunset.

Arthur had been waiting for him with a blanket spread out and a basket of food.

“Hungry?” Arthur asked as if they hadn’t spent almost an entire week apart.

“Starving,” Merlin said. He’d known Arthur long enough to tell when the man was nervous about something and needed to talk.

“I need to tell you something,” Arthur said when the food was finally gone, confirming Merlin’s suspicions. “We’ve known each other a long time and I value your friendship more than I can say. Friends should be honest with one another, but I’ve been keeping something from you. I know you’ve been wondering about the courtship questions I asked you and the time I spent with Guinevere. She gave me a lot to think about but now I think I’m ready…”

Merlin had opened his mouth, still trying to come up with the words to congratulate Arthur on his engagement, when Arthur took his hand and shoved something in his palm.

“This is not,” Arthur said, “an engagement ring.”

Unsure of how to reply to that, Merlin instead lifted the ring to get a better look at it in the fading sunlight. Rather than metal, it was carved from honey-colored yew and warm from where Arthur had been clutching it. The wooden band was small, but likely a perfect fit for Gwen.

“Are those leaves?” Merlin asked, marveling at the designs etched on the sides. Whoever had crafted the ring had exceptional skill, as the leaves appeared almost lifelike. “It’s gorgeous. Gwen will love it.”

“It’s not for Guinevere,” Arthur said, his voice barely a whisper.

Merlin’s hand, outstretched to return the ring, froze. “Then who…”

“It’s for you. If you want it, that is. It’s not an engagement ring. Which isn’t to say that I won’t get you one of those if you decide you want one from me. Guinevere said to wait until you and I talk about marriage first. Apparently surprise proposals are messier in real life than the bards make them out to be. So I thought this would be a good place to start.”

“You want to give me an engagement ring.” Merlin said, grappling with Arthur’s words “Why?”

“Because I want to marry you.”

“Oh. Well… that makes sense,” Merlin said, too stunned to know how else to reply. How could Arthur simply say _that_ about _him_ with such certainty? “But if you marry me, then Gwen…”

“Will have to pick whose maid of honor she’ll be. Though I suppose she could stand for both of us. I’m fine with that if you are.”

“That would work,” Merlin replied, still not sure exactly what Arthur was on about.

“Good. I’ll let her know. When we set a date. After I ask you. If you say yes. Like I said, this isn’t an engagement ring. Although there is a question that accompanies it. Merlin, I was wondering…” Arthur paused, wiping his palms against the blanket. “What I mean to say is, with all the changes taking place in Camelot, I really need a court sorcerer. I can’t think of anyone I trust more for the job than you.”

Merlin said nothing, his chest tight as he tried to remember how to breathe.

“The ring,” Arthur continued, seemingly oblivious to Merlin’s rising panic, “used to accompany the position until my father… Anyway, Morgana says it’s enchanted – magic keeps the wood alive. And it adjusts itself to fit the wearer.”

A trembling hand took the ring from Merlin’s grip, then placed it at the tip of his forefinger. The band began emitting the warm, comforting heat of friendly magic as it expanded, allowing Arthur to slide it on Merlin’s finger.

Holding Merlin’s hand, Arthur lifted it so they both could see. In the midst of the leaves etched on the side were tiny, white blossoms that hadn’t been there before.

“It likes you,” Arthur said. “Smart ring.”

“How long have you known?” Merlin finally asked, the dying sunlight giving him the courage to speak.

“That you have magic? Since the Perilous Lands. Between the bridge keeper nattering about courage, magic, and strength, and your chasing off the wyverns, I figured it out. That I love you? Since you called Valiant a creep.”

At those words, Merlin interlaced his fingers with Arthur’s.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Arthur continued, “at least not until you felt comfortable telling me about your magic. But Merlin, I need you. Partially because rescinding the ban has proven complicated, but also because we’re both… not old, but getting older. If there’s even the slightest chance you feel the same way…”

They sat in silence for a moment, Merlin overwhelmed but desperately wanting to get this right.

“Could it be both? The ring, I mean. Could it be the court sorcerer’s ring and an engagement ring?”

“I can’t see why not,” Arthur replied, voice catching. “So long as it’s something that would please the wearer.”

“Then I suppose,” Merlin said, “you’ll need to move it to the correct finger.”

The soft twilight, Arthur’s acceptance, the fact that he had no more secrets to keep, the sight of Arthur carefully placing the band on his ring finger – it was all too much. What else could Merlin do with the surge of emotions, but kiss Arthur?

That was apparently the correct response, as Arthur welcomed Merlin’s lips with a gasp, kissing him back with the same intensity as he lowered him to the blanket. Underneath the starlight and underneath Arthur, Merlin made it clear through a combination of whispered confessions, heated kisses, and desperate touches just how much it pleased him that Arthur had given him the ring.

And with nowhere for either of them to be until morning, they spent the rest of the night on the tower, wrapped up in the blanket and in each other, dreaming of the future they would share together.


End file.
